


Harbor

by Lunamaria (Kapori)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Gen, Tragic AUs, canon compliant if you squint, if you really squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-11-12 21:27:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11170425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kapori/pseuds/Lunamaria
Summary: Not all endings end happily. Multi-POV character pieces.





	1. Waters (Kairi)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of short character pieces set in a few universe scenarios. These are mostly "what if" fics with tragic undertones, 'cause why not.
> 
> Waters is a standalone, as are Mirror and Surrender.
> 
> King, Silver, Roxas, Hero, Dreamer, and Swing, exist in the same universe.
> 
> Safe, Shadows, and Sea, exist in the same universe.
> 
> Christmas, Spring, and Pastpresentfuture are considered one piece in three parts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was back, he was back – they had all been restored to their former lives, islanders and nothing more. As the universe had always intended them to be.

 

_Harbor_

.

.

1\. Waters (Kairi)

They didn't fit together anymore.

Not as they had before, two souls with such kismet. Eyes and hearts poised for adventure.

She was back, he was back – they had all been restored to their former lives, islanders and nothing more. As the universe had always intended them to be. 

Just kids with stories about shadows, hidden worlds and galaxies, magical keys and doors. It was strange how it all seemed just like that..a story. It no longer felt as though she'd lived it for herself, felt the tingle of those adventures upon her own fingertips. It was like, after everything, she was just another one of wide-eyed islander children begging for more details. A bystander, a secondary figure in her own life. 

Slowly, the war of Kingdom Hearts was swallowed up by coastal winds, rolled away like summer heat.

She waited for word to come, for any message. She waited for years, praying some mysterious door would call her name. That someone, somewhere would need her. That she could feel alive again, instead of the trapped, settled thing she had become. 

But the story of a Mouse King and of other worlds as numerous as stars twisted and tangled beyond original pristine. Sora still saved the day, but few other truths remained, irrelevant pieces of a well-worn traveler's tale. She, too, was erased from the legend whenever it rang in the ears of island children.

She didn't fit anymore, not like she had. Not like the others did, and, of them, only Sora understood.

When she took his boat and his heart, she was sure he would not stop her as she sailed off into uncharted waters. If nothing would come for her, she would find it herself. 

And off she went.

.

.

_"And we never saw her again,"_


	2. Surrender (Mickey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is only one mouse with one kingdom and one broken, tired heart. His mission is over now, and there is nothing left he can do for all the worlds out there. Stars, burning and bright in his sky.

_Harbor_

.

.

2\. Surrender (Mickey)

They had all surrendered something: time, happiness, love...so many dear things.

He cannot measure the toll others paid, but his own sacrifice runs too deep to know where it ends and where it begins. He hardly knows his own heart and will not presume to understand what others feel, how deeply and how desperately.

He is a king, not God.

If he was, things would be so different. Things would not be so broken as they are; they would be better, they would be whole.

But he is only a king; he cannot fathom galaxies and bring life from death. He can only take the pieces he had been handed, broken and wrong, and hope. Hope he could fit their edges together again. He is not the creator of the glass from which the pieces came. He is just a king, so small and with so little. If he was God, nothing would have fractured. He would have protected it and guarded it from every harm.

If he was God, then–

Well, he isn't God, so it does not matter. He is only one mouse with one kingdom and one broken, tired heart. His mission is over now, and there is nothing left he can do for all the worlds out there. Stars, burning and bright in his sky.

For all the years after, it is all left in God's hands.

And though he is young, and does not age, his senses fade. He knows it breaks his queen every day to see it: his troubled heart, his thoughts, gauzy as spiderweb, and his slow, tired way. Yet all he can think of is God, and why?

Why let shadows swallow entire worlds and plunder hearts? He wonders where God was all those times, and why He did nothing. Why leave the universe to darkness, as such evil existed? 

Why let the darkness eat away at the heart of an innocent boy, when all he had was a key? A key to what? To happiness? To light?

How can anyone believe in light anymore, with such darkness?

Mickey is only a king and there is nothing he can do, so little he could have done to begin with.

It isn't until he sees that boy many years later that the last tendril of his hope is firmly crushed underfoot.

The boy is worn and tired. He smiles but there is something behind it, an absence of strength the king recognizes in himself. He has lost something great – a redhead who grinned at him across the waves, who stood beside him as he faced the troubles of worlds beyond his own.

Now the king, for perhaps the first time, truly hates God for all He hasn't and could have done. The king accepts the consequences his own faults, but this boy has done everything, has given everything. He has saved so many lives at so great a cost and so little reward. The only happiness he kept for himself was in the quiet strength of his friend and so much more, the island girl who he reports was laid to rest under her favorite Paopu tree.

Why, God? It is so senseless.

He sees the boy off, Minnie's gloved hand holding his outside of the gates of his great castle.

And the king slowly releases all his hate for God, as the boy grins brightly at them despite everything. It is filled with such grief, but there is a small flash of hope behind it that warms Mickey. He is so used to feeling cold, he is surprised into understanding something his mind refused.

The king has no right to hate God when the keyblade wielder, who has lost much more, does not. That boy was thankful for every moment and every smile with her, in spite of how it all ended. He still hopes, and that is a wondrous gift.

The Mouse King acknowledges this and smiles very softly at his queen.

They return to the castle.

_._

_._

_"The king was a mouse like anybody else,"_


	3. Mirror (Naminé)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She isn't sure she is Naminé anyhow, or even if she's all or part of Kairi.

_Harbor_

.

.

3. Mirror (Naminé)

She doesn't look in mirrors anymore.

It is looking in the glass one day and watching as it shatters to thousands upon thousands of pieces. It is learning you are merely a copy, fabricated from the life of another person.

She cannot even hate herself for that. She doesn't have a self to hate, only the shadow of another girl who can hate herself if she pleases to. Not that she would, for the other girl is quite happy with her life. So full, so whole. She doesn't look in mirrors at a girl she is but isn't and doesn't speak in a voice that doesn't belong to her.

Drawing is all Naminé has.

And sometimes she even questions if that is hers to keep. It could belong to the other girl, the one intended to exist. Who does.

Her pencil could betray her, but she chooses to claim that selfishness, for the sake of an identity that plays both sides of the fence. But, then...is that identity, even the counterfeit one, really hers to maintain? She is too afraid to find the answer staring back at her in the mirror.

To that end, she has learned two things from her two selves - Kairi _and_ Naminé.

One, they both love a boy with eyes as blue as the ocean, a boy who loves the real one and sometimes wears a thoughtful expression when losing himself in Kairi's eyes. A face that sometimes stops and stares, as if he's not really sure who he's seeing or if she's real. Naminé sometimes imagines that soft expression touching his eyes is for her, not for the other girl who his lips and hands and heart are for.

All she wants is those eyes – it's the only thing she is selfish enough to dream for. From inside the real one, she cannot ask for anything else.

And the second thing she learned is to never sign her name, ever: it's one of Kairi's golden rules.

When she draws secret messages and pictures in the shadowy cave, always for Sora but always hidden, she puts a hand over her heart as to talk to Naminé, saying: _He can't ever know_.

Know what? Naminé thinks often, through some connection or string that binds them together. That Kairi loves him? He knows that. And so she can only draw one conclusion.

_He can't ever know_.

When she draws, the only thing she is selfish enough to give into (although she knows Kairi would give her more), she never signs a thing. She isn't sure she is _Naminé_ anyhow, or even if she's all or part of Kairi. She has no right to be either of them – she never had.

_He can't ever know that you love him too,_ Naminé _._

_._

_._

_"She is like a part of me, a sister, another self,"_


	4. King (Riku)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He brushes his fingers across the tombstone, newly feathered in snow, and then over the king's insignia of three perfect circles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> King, Silver, Roxas, Hero, Stranger, and Swing, exist in the same universe.

_Harbor_

.

.

4\. King (Riku)

The cold sting of the snow on his face is a welcome feeling, a distraction from the pain of loss, so acute he can feel it in his bones.

The evening sky is dark, cast with stars and planets winking at him like bits of jewel.

It's beautiful, but his heart is too heavy to appreciate how lovely the snow looks falling from such a sky.

Riku is not sure how his heart still beats. It should hurt less now, but it doesn't. The pain surprises him every time, no matter how often he does this. So many fallen friends, so many words and memories given in honor. So much pain and loss he must swallow, in order to continue moving forward.

They are gone, and he remains.

It's a mystery he can barely live with, that they were all so much better than he. That he stands here, alive and witness, as if he were more deserving. If he could trade his life, his heart, for another's, he would. Gladly he would make the exchange. Couldn't God just take the bargain? Surely his life meant something, anything at all. Maybe not Sora's life or Kairi's life, but wasn't there something he could have done? Any compromise at all?

He brushes his fingers across the tombstone, newly feathered in snow, and then over the king's insignia of three perfect circles. Riku studies the name and crest of the king, allowing himself to remember all the words of those who had loved Mickey. _B_ _eloved_ , _good_ , _valiant_ ; all the things he had been and more. All the more reason Riku's life was not a suitable trade for his.

In the end, it's not enough. He cannot barter river stone for precious gold and God is no fool. But what's done is done; there is no benefit to living in the past, there is only present, and then future. The king taught him that, that life goes on. Death is but a season. 

Riku he tries to honor that over his grave. He is not the man he should be, but he tries and that means something. He has to believe in that, for the king and for himself.

"Minnie," Riku says and breathes out a dragon's breath into the cold night.

He looks beyond the fallen king to see the dimming lights of Disney Castle sprinkled with winter. The branches around are them are withdrawing under blankets of powdery ice, bereft of leaves and fruits until called forth by the next season.

Though life does not recycle the same way.

The sleeping king will not awaken to find spring in his lungs. The world is moving on without him, and it nearly kills Riku to rise from the grave and acknowledge that truth. 

Pulling her coat closer around herself, the queen merely nods and smiles that sad, gentle bit. She puts her hand in Riku's and plants a lone kiss across her king's resting place.

 _My king_ , she inhales and then sighs, _my king_.

What a king, the boy thinks. What a king.

.

.

_"I promise to care for Disney Castle as you have."_


	5. Silver (Riku's Mother)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tiny fish swims from her as she moves closer, vanishing into the curl of another wave, somewhere out of reach. Just like her son, silver and quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> King, Silver, Roxas, Hero, Stranger, and Swing, exist in the same universe.

_Harbor_

.

.

5\. Silver (Riku's Mother)

It is like he never existed.

Only when she sees a long silver fish swim by her toes, by nature too afraid to nudge her, does she really feel he was once hers.

The tiny fish swims from her as she moves closer, vanishing into the curl of another wave, somewhere out of reach. Just like her son, silver and quick.

Her eyes peer into the distance, but the fish is well and truly gone. All she can see are ordinary blue ones, greater in number, playing at the shore. If only she, too, could catch the top of a wave to find what lies beyond the sandy stretch of beach. If only she could gather him in her arms again and bundle close to her heart. 

 _Beat, beat_ , it would go.

He would nudge her gently away, ruffle his beautiful hair – so lovely and rare – and kiss her cheek or forehead.

For now, the little blue fish kissing her toes will have to be enough. It is all she has until she sees the little silver fish emerge from the waves again.

 _Riku_ , she says and heads back to shore.

.

.

_"But I never saw that fish again."_


	6. Safe (Goofy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was proud to be on the King's Guard. He wouldn't have shrugged his promise to protect his home for anything, even if he had dreamed this outcome, dreamed that he would miss so very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the same universe as Shadows.

_Harbor_

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.

6\. Safe (Goofy)

He could feel it all, the moment he returned home. Pain, relief, nostalgia, longing — all suddenly so overwhelming, like a large wave cresting the shore, pulling sand and shell back into ocean proper.

Above all, a sadness at what was missed. At all that had changed.

He had been gone so long; there were so many lost memories he could not make up for. Not _ever_. The years had simply passed, along with them everything he had been absent for, everything he would have treasured — gone...sculpted into new, different things he had no part in.

Mickey, Donald and Sora, too, had lost the years and the memories that could have been. The memories that were, but where a mouse, a duck, a dog, and keybearer, were simply missing. Time moved around them.

Yet he could not quite regret the cost of his duties. He was proud to be on the King's Guard. He wouldn't have shrugged his promise to protect his home for anything, even if he had dreamed this outcome, dreamed that he would miss so very much.

The years were lost, but the worlds were safe.

It was his duty to secure their safety, even at the expense of his own heart. And it was a sacrifice Goofy was willing to pay, if it meant keeping the universe unharmed, kept the stars bright and stark in his sky as if to say, _You are not alone._

So it inevitably meant he must be willing to leave his son and only family at any given moment. And he was. And he had, and time, as it has been known to do, passed.

Maxey had grown so.

When Goofy had left the gates of his beloved home at Disney Castle, sailing away in the King's ship in pursuit of a magical key, Max saw him off. He had been old enough to understand his father's sacrifice, and loved his father enough to forgive him as well. Forgive him for all the years gone by, separated and out of reach of one another.

The years had been good to him. He had grown into what Goofy considered a handsome pup indeed. He looked so much like his mother, but also like his father — Goofy thanked every star in the sky for that. For everything else as well; the kindness and nobility in his son, the heart and the understanding. The changes he was not there to guide.

Much, so very much, had changed.

"Dad, this is Roxanne," Max says to his father, introducing her as a blush creeps up his neck. A soft series of chuckles follow, not unlike Goofy's. The laugh catches in Max's throat as Goofy's heart catches in his.

His son discovered a _Roxanne_ while his father was away. Goofy, again, stands proud and lost, a bittersweet swell in his heart that feels so much like a physical pain.

It skews more toward sweet as she smiles shyly through Max's introduction. Her red hair and tiny smile warm Goofy's tired heart; she looks an awful lot like Max's mother, so lovely and happy and like home. Max watches her as Goofy had watched his wife, who rests so soundly in Heaven.

"Roxanne, this is my dad," Max says, covering his mouth with a nervous squeak. "Dad, this is Roxanne."

 _Dad._ It sounds so much like _home_.

"It's a pleasure to meet 'ya," Goofy says, taking her hand in his, kissing it like a knight paying respect to his princess. Roxanne's musical laughter softens Goofy.

Goofy returns her hand to Max.

But there it is before him, beautiful as it is sad; his son is grown, too old to need a father.

Max is already being the man he turned into all on his own. He isn't Goofy's little Maxey anymore. He doesn't believe in Santa or need the crusts cut from his sandwiches. He doesn't come find his papa when nightmares came calling. He can handle them himself now.

Goofy would give anything to have those years back. Almost anything.

But the only thing he wouldn't give was the asking price for those memories: his journey to find and assist the key, to be Sora's shield in a universe troubled by the shadow of evil. What had been out there, what had driven to destroy the worlds and steal hearts...well, he could not regret fighting for the light. He would do it again and again.

For today, the worlds were safe. Goofy would have to see about tomorrow.

.

.

_"Even as he was gone, I loved him."_


	7. Roxas (Olette)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For all she knows, Roxas is still out there somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the same universe as King, Silver, Hero, Stranger, and Swing.

_Harbor_

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.

7\. Roxas (Olette)

Sora isn't there – and she wants to kill him for it.

_Literally_ , she tells the empty stretch of beach, but takes it back a second later.

_Whatever_.

And then she feels like a monster for wishing it all. Who wishes for such things, especially when they have already passed? When _he_ has already passed.

He isn't there, because he cannot be.

And again she feels like the monster she is – the sniveling monster she has become, cursing a hero who died to save the worlds from blinking out of existence. Though she knows this, she does not soften. Against her better judgment, her long-forgotten sense, she begins to hate Sora all over again. So she leaves the islands without even stopping to honor his grave.

For all she knows, Roxas is still out there somewhere.

_._

_._

_"She never did let go."_


	8. Christmas (Donald I of III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pushes his head up, quieting his sorrow, and walks ahead of Goofy and Sora. Snow begins to fall, but Donald trudges on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is three-part piece for Donald. The others are Spring and Pastpresentfuture.
> 
> Parallels to Disney's A Christmas Carol throughout.

_Harbor_

.

.

8\. Christmas (Donald I of III)

His uncle was a good duck – shrewd with his money, yes – but definitely a good duck.

He had practically raised Donald, guiding him into adulthood. Supporting his inclination toward magic, he even introduced him to the king.

Scrooge was not a fighter. Brave, yes, but not even magical. He was an entrepreneur and businessman, a duck who had earned his dollar with common sense and sharp wit.

Donald falters as he remembers, in another wave of despair, that he will never hear the Scottish lilt of his uncle's voice again. As he takes another step and one foot hooks and trips up the other, he falls into a pile of snow. He curses and picks himself up. All he wants is to be with his uncle, but he will not fall behind his friends as they travel through the bright, cold day.

Scrooge McDuck is dead, and Donald has no idea how he will tell Daisy and his nephews back home of the loss. But he must be strong, now that the bones of their family have been rattled.

He pushes his head up, quieting his sorrow, and walks ahead of Goofy and Sora. Snow begins to fall, but Donald trudges on.

Later, when they lay down camp for the night, Donald writes.

_Daisy_ , _boys_ , he pens, brushing heavy tears from each eye, _Christmas is only a few days away._

Donald hesitates, weighing a nearly empty coin purse in his wing. He is now an heir; money is not a concern, not that it ever really was. It has so little value to Donald, but he cannot help being aware of the enormity of what Scrooge has left him – a vast fortune as well as a legacy. The last living testaments of Scrooge McDuck. Billions of them.

He will think on that later, so he goes on writing. He doesn't tell them of the ambush or of the hearts lost there, so many wasted lives, one in particular more devastating than the others.

He does not tell them any of it. He cannot bring himself to tell them of Scrooge, not in the informality of a letter. He is not even fully awake to the reality...writing it for them will bring him one step closer to understanding, and he is not ready. Not yet. Time will bring him pain and sadness and such cold longing.

Until then, he just writes and cries. Mostly he cries.

_I'll be home for Christmas_ , he bows his head to the letter, _if only in my dreams._

_._

_._

_"It became like a prison to him."_


	9. Dreamer (Belle)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being awake is not the same as being safe; remaining unbroken is not the same as being whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the same universe as King, Silver, Roxas, Hero, and Swing. Taken from my fic "Air and Stars" - you can read all the pieces there.

_Harbor_

.

.

9\. Dreamer (Belle)

Long ago, she used to believe.

Even when the princesses in her books faced tragedy and darkness, in their struggles shined a gentle kind of hope. Even in the darkest of nights, there was reason to believe. But she was not prepared; she could not imagine such a horrible stretch of emptiness. She had known her share of being alone, but with the feel of a book in her hand, she never truly believed herself alone. She did not know such an aching bareness could belong to anyone, anywhere.

Her voice, her mind, her dreams grow still.

When this all began, when she was still whole, she made herself a promise. To never forget the Beast, to never forget the petals falling from an enchanted rose. It was her story, and she promised to remember it, to hold her place in it like a bookmark. She can still hear broken echoes of that vow, bouncing around in nightmares and in fearful whispers.

 _Belle_ , it calls. Then, like all things here do, it fades into nothing.

Still, she has a spirit most the girls are left without. Blessings in this time are few, but this is one she can feel as every lie comes to haunt her. She does not cry out for help, even as small pieces of her memory are turned against her. Being awake is not the same as being safe; remaining unbroken is not the same as being whole. To cry for help would give the darkness a piece of herself, one she is unwilling to give.

She remains quiet in her defiance, shivering at the emptiness of it all.

She feels what the others feel. The pain and loneliness, the disenchantment. She feels the loss at knowing her adventures, her dreams, everything, are gone or never existed at all. But more than the others, she knows what it is to be alive in this darkness. Her mind is clear; it is not a hopeful place, but her thoughts are not muddled by the soot of the darkness. She despairs, but she knows there is hope, even if she doesn't feel it.

In the clearest of times, she can remember her friends. Strange friends... a tea pot, a clock and a candelabra, of all the things. There are others, of course, but among them there is a memory more beloved than the others. She thinks of Beast and all he became to her, his hidden and complicated kindness. His begrudging compassion and fierceness. He is so dear to her, but in a place so void of anything, his memory is not an easy one to bear.

Yet her hope is not lost, will not ever be lost. Despite the nightmares and the visions of darkness, she can still dream. She can still yearn and hope for better things, even in times when it seems they cannot ever be true. Her hope is a delicate one, but it burns through her.

Even in a land of nightmares, she is a dreamer.

Yet not all dreams are good ones, and the last of the petals begin to fall.

.

.

_That dream again – the dream they all dream._

 

 


	10. Hero (Sora's Parents)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He likes to imagine his son is a hero, but she likes to pretend her son is nobody, a bystander, a refugee. Anything but a hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the same universe as King, Silver, Roxas, Dreamer, and Swing.

_Harbor_

.

.

10\. Hero (Sora's Parents)

He likes to imagine his son is a hero, but she likes to pretend her son is nobody, a bystander, a refugee. Anything but a hero.

They argue and debate the role of their son in a universe so suddenly turned upside down, agreeing only on one thing: one night he simply vanished. And not just him, but their home, their island, the very fabric of their daily lives uprooted and thrown into the random chaos of the universe.

Somewhere strange and unfamiliar they woke, their son and everything they ever knew ripped from their grasps. Like some children's tale of adventure and magic, they were strangers in a new land, hearing only whispers and rumors of an evil that stole worlds and hearts alike. There was no word of Sora for so long or of a way home, when came the pieces that eventually held the truth they were after...a kingdom, a king, a fight for hearts, a boy with a key. A key that unlocked worlds and hearts, wielded by a boy from a small island in such a smaller corner of the cosmos.

If it was their son, then the father decided he would be a hero. There was a darkness his son would rise to meet, and if they could not be together, at least it was for the light and all of the stars in the sky.

His mother, however, couldn't bring herself to believe it. He was like them, stranded and waiting out whatever conflict raged on beyond their world. She raised understandable hell when, restored to Destiny Islands and hearts intact, she learned otherwise. She hated the truth, that all along his father had been right.

But they don't fight about it anymore, because they are older and so tired of waiting for their son to come home. It worries her that the murmurs of the light and the darkness, of  _Sora_  and of  _Kingdom Hearts,_  have all but stopped coming. Secretly, it worries him too. But one thing doesn't change: she still believes her son no one at all, of no consequence to darkness or evil, and he still calls his son a hero.

She doesn't like that.

For if he is a hero, he won't be coming home.

.

.

_"And what a hero he was,"_


	11. Spring (Donald II of III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Donald's experience, precious life does not last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is three-part piece for Donald. The first piece is chapter eight, Christmas. The third and final piece will be up in a couple chapters.
> 
> Parallels to Disney's A Christmas Carol throughout.

_Harbor_

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.

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11\. Spring (Donald II of III)

Spring has come.

The trees, full of blossoms and fruit, do not comfort him as they used to. The sun, balmy and mild, does not warm his feathers or buoy his mood. If anything, the fragrance of the flowers and blanket of sunshine turn his stomach sour, stoking a bitter fire with their beauty.

He hates what it means, this season. The renewal and re-awakening of life...the hope of spring, that life can come from death. That new, beautiful things can rise up from the dregs of winter. So whole and beautiful; so alive and new. What right have the trees to unfurl new leaves, or the songbirds to bring life to their nests? What right has the sky to be so clear and bright?

Bah, it's folly anyhow. They will only die again when the season turns its eye and the fruits and leaves and flowers shrivel under the snowfall of winter. In Donald's experience, precious life does not last.

And though he does not think on it kindly, this season was once his favorite. Everything he cannot bear of it now, was something he loved of it once. But too many things have been lost in the years following, too many pieces of himself fractured and abandoned. He keeps this all to himself, enduring it as he must. It does not seem so terrible anymore, to be left alone in the world.

It is convenient, to be without Daisy, the boys, and all of his dearest friends.

They have all since left him, and he gave them little choice, he must admit. When one lives in financial statements, loan contracts, and in the gleam of gold coins, there is room for nothing else. He made his decisions and cannot fault anyone else theirs. He is keeping Scrooge alive as best he can; he would give anything to see all of his uncle's investments and assets thriving and growing. He does what he must and does not make any bones about it.

This was a responsibility charged to Donald, and Donald is a duck of word and of honor. He would do anything for his uncle, even if the years have made him sniveling and cruel. It is the only thing he can do for Scrooge anymore, the duck who made him everything he ever was. And if his uncle transformed him into the duck he was, he can see no reason why Scrooge hasn't the right to take it all away. Even in death.

So he lives in that study day after day, only pausing for minimal sleep and to visit the bank, an ugly jingle giving away his every step.

He hates but mostly he jingles,  _jingle, jingle, jingle_  all the way to the bank, stomping on a loose flower in the street.

Donald forgets all hope of spring.

_._

_._

_"When will this winter end?"_


End file.
